Laminated
by Sei-chan-1999
Summary: He needed to tell Subaru something important and had no way to reach him. Yet, fate intervened again and it was ironic to witness that for once, his failure had been the bait to bring to him what he longed for the most. SubKam One-shot.


**Title:** Laminated

**Summary:** He needed to tell Subaru something important and had no way to reach him. Yet, fate intervened again and it was ironic to witness that for once, his failure had been the bait to bring to him what he longed for the most. SubKam One-shot.

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Subaru x Kamui. Shounen-ai, I think? This takes place post Vol 17.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Clamp or their characters. All rights to them.

XXX

**Laminated**

**By Sei-chan-1999**

Okay, did you hear about the sixteen-year-old who got a heart attack?

It was the sort of thing people would use to start a joke or a funny story. It sounded like something Yuzuriha would say.

'If you're not careful and don't stop worrying, you might get a heart attack!"

It was amazing how many millions of people could look at a pair of words like that and dismiss the possibility of them ever getting a heart attack, conveniently forgetting the fact that they, like everyone else had the same squishy and blood soaked cake of muscles lodged inside their bodies, capable of bursting at any time of day or night.

Kamui knew that Subaru would never forget a thing like that. Not now, anyway.

The twenty-five-year-old had left them all the afternoon after Rainbow Bridge and since he had found the empty room, the bloodied couch and the fluttering curtains over windows thrown open to a dying, grey world, Kamui had been falling apart inside.

In spite of Subaru's last bit of advice to him, he'd spent far too many hours than what was considered normal worrying about the older man. Kamui had been making it a point to stay out far too late and feeling his heart pound much too quickly every time someone in a trench-coat walked by. He followed phantom trails of cigarette smoke, before he returned to his senses and realized that he was standing on the edge of some dark Shinjuku alleyway with its sleazy arms inviting him in. He spent his nights thrashing around in his thick sheets, letting his fingers chase each other across the covers and clenching his palms, trying to resurrect that thrill he felt in his heart every time Subaru had held his hand in the past. And cursed himself in secret when he failed each time.

He went over every single conversation, every action, every gesture passed between them and tried to relive scenes that tired and died halfway before his memory had a grasp of the finer details.

His textbooks had too many of Subaru's neat notes written in their margins and he went over their elegant shapes instead of the actual matter and had successfully failed the past three tests in school.

He spent every moment of every day on the edge of a breakdown, careful to avoid memories, objects or conversations that would send him hurtling off the edge of his salvaged sanity. The others were careful and he appreciated it, but knew that it could never last.

"Kamui?"

He shut his eyes, his back still facing the others in the room and took a deep breath to calm himself before turning around to meet Sorata's concerned gaze.

"What is it?" Kamui asked as the older boy looked at him, uncharacteristically worried.

At that, the others began to file out. Arashi gave him a concerned look, Yuzuriha patted his hand, Imonoyama smiled at him and the other two followed him. The door shut and it was just the two teenagers.

Kamui leaned against a desk for support, arms crossed, afraid of the worst.

"Sorata?"

XXX

They spoke for exactly four hundred seconds. Sorata told him the matter quickly and without any of his trademark humor for once. Kamui listened in growing horror and disbelief.

Subaru.

No. It couldn't be.

His chest twinged and Kamui gripped the front of his shirt, looking down at the floor the whole time. He could feel every single disc of blood cutting through the veins in his body as suddenly everything felt too small and choked for his comfort.

Sorata sent him back to class after that.

"We're never going to discuss this again, Kamui," he finished quietly and Kamui looked at Sorata's too-small sneakers, absently wondering when they'd been washed last.

Sorata waited for the younger boy's reaction and upon seeing nothing, patted his shoulder comfortingly and left him there, reminding him again to get to his lessons on time.

XXX

He wasn't really sure what had happened after that. There was an Art class where he'd been left to himself in an empty classroom, without Keichii's company to smudge the gaping pit in his heart. After that, he vaguely remembered making a trip to the office for something he couldn't recall, with whatever he'd made in Art class still stuck in his pocket and poking his skin through his pants and then…study hall.

He found himself at their tuition spot again.

His. And Subaru's.

Whose name he would never be allowed to say out loud ever again.

In quiet defiance of everything pressing down on him, Kamui spoke to the emptiness and unseen entities around him.

"Sumeragi Subaru. Sakurazukamori."

That was when the tears finally came.

The first thing he saw after he had hastily dried his eyes was the shallow ceramic pot.

An ashtray, with the dry and decayed stubs of three partially smoked cigarettes in them. They were at least two months old.

Kamui swallowed painfully, ignoring the complaints of his sore body as he reached forward and dragged the ashtray towards himself, causing it to screech as it was pulled across the glass table.

He tipped the cigarettes out of it, watching them roll, scatter and fly away in the cold breeze that whirled around him and cleaned the dust off the tray with his hand.

Subaru.

He wasn't sure what happened after that, but he was on the ground, trying to yell for help but somehow finding that he had gone mute, with one leg still slung over the stone bench. His fingers were holding the ashtray against himself so hard that a minute piece chipped away in his hand.

His chest hurt so hard and the circumference of the world was getting smaller and smaller in his view, like a murky whirlpool disappearing into a dark hole with nothing inside.

He heard running feet and panicked yells as his ground shook from a miniature earthquake. Would he never be free of them?

A sixteen-year-old having a heart attack. What a ridiculous idea.

Kamui was laughing silently when his eyes closed.

XXX

He woke up to darkness, chilled air and tiny pinpricks of green and red lights winking at him.

Kamui looked at his clothes on a nearby metal table as he breathed through the plastic clamped over his nose and mouth.

The folded black pants, the white shirt, equally dark in the night, his shoes on top of them and a tie wrapped messily around it all. That wasn't good. Someone should have…

Wait.

He was looking at his own set of clothes.

Which would mean…oh.

Kamui felt himself beginning to slide into sleep again just as the door to his lonely ward opened.

He didn't have it in him to panic anymore.

XXX

He raised himself to the very edge of the black waters of sleep, so he was still technically under the ocean, unseen by the world, but he could catch glimpses of the world beyond his closed eyes in the form of feelings, sensations, smells and tastes.

Like the finger that audaciously but carefully touched his face, caressing his sensitive eyelids and stroking through the fine hairs of his eyelashes.

"Subaru," he breathed in spite of himself and opened his eyes.

His body had always failed him. Whether it was running a race with Fuuma as a child, rescuing Kotori's hat, trying to get to his burning mother in time, breaking free of metal impalements to hold a girl in her last moments or struggling to catch up to a fight, his body had never matched up to his need.

Until now.

His failure, his failing body had been the bait to grant the desire in his mind.

To bring the one he longed to see again.

The Sumeragi sat on the edge of Kamui's bed, mindful of the plastic wires, tubes and contraptions winding in and out of him. Kamui rustled over the paper-covered bed as he squirmed into consciousness.

And remembered he was wearing nothing but a cotton gown under the hospital sheets and wondered at how his tired heart could still feel such idiotic things like embarrassment.

Subaru looked the same as ever as Kamui studied him, his mind eager to savor every detail of the twenty-five-year-old it could gorge itself on.

The Sumeragi kept one hand on Kamui's forehead as he stared above his head at the screen keeping track of his heart rate and watched the line crook jagged but steady green lines across the dark screen for a few minutes. Kamui felt his pulse beginning to accelerate under the sudden attention and hoped that Subaru would look away before he saw _that_.

When he had assured himself that his visit would not upset Kamui, he looked down and for the first time, the teenager felt a slash of fear and anticipation mingling with his drunken joy.

"How did this happen?" Subaru asked, letting his hand slide to the side of Kamui's head instead, slightly tangling in his hair. Kamui tried to look around for a light but unable to find one, gave up, trying to be content with Subaru's presence with him then, even if the man's face was in shadow.

But if what Sorata had said were true…they would both prefer it that way.

"I'm sorry, I don't know," he tried to say but the mask got in the way and he coughed instead.

"Do you need this right now?" Subaru asked, tapping the mask and Kamui shook his head. The onmyouji used his free hand to loosen one of the straps binding the device to his face and Kamui sighed as fresh cold air hit his mouth and nose and tried to adjust to the change as the mouth-piece fell away.

"I don't know what happened," he lied. As if he was going to tell Subaru what had really happened.

_Oh, I was just thinking of my life and then I saw an ashtray and then I fell over and had a heart failure and…_

"Stress Cardiomyopathy," Subaru read emotionlessly, off the screen and this time the light caught in his eyes.

Green. Gold.

"Subaru-"

"You put yourself under so much emotional and mental pressure that it manifested itself physically, in the form of what is quite close to a heart attack."

The explanation was straight from a textbook, as well as slightly cold to his isolated mind and for some reason, Kamui felt himself about to lose control once again.

How could the thing that kept him alive every day be so _stupid_?

"Is it true?" Kamui asked shakily. He felt the hand that Subaru rested against his skull stiffen before loosening up again and he wished he could sit up and look him straight in the eyes.

Sakurazukamori.

"That's not important right now."

Kamui started to protest but Subaru held him down and he subsided.

"Subaru, please-"

"Listen to me, Kamui. It doesn't matter now. I don't want to think of any of that now. You mean more than just that."

Kamui struggled to make sense of the words but his mind decided to leave it for a brighter time when he wasn't so disoriented and he helplessly went along.

There was nothing he could say.

Subaru waited, let out a deep breath and his fingers returned to their wandering paths across Kamui's features.

"You remember what I said last time, don't you?" he reminded the boy, his tone more mild this time.

Kamui whispered his words back to him and Subaru nodded, satisfied.

"Never forget that," he told him.

He stood up to go and the teenager desperately tried to clutch onto his hand but it was too easy for him to pull away from the weak hold.

"No, don't-"

As their fingers separated, Subaru's wrist brushed against the side of the table and he flinched violently, drawing his hand against himself protectively before rounding onto a wide-eyed Kamui.

"What have you done?"

The boy stared, uncomprehending, and Subaru knelt next to his bed, his heart beating faster.

He looked at the table with Kamui's clothes and shoes on it. That, a glass of water and a jug, along with a diagnosis sheet and a get-well-soon card from Yuzuriha.

"You have something else here with you on this table; something so powerful that it's abnormal. What is it?"

Kamui shook his head imploringly, caught between hasty panic and indignation.

"Subaru, I don't know, I swear-"

"May I see your things?"

He nodded and Subaru straightened, holding an outstretched arm over the table and closing his eyes for a few seconds. He opened them and dislodged the neat pile of clothes with a single movement of his arm, to reveal the crumpled pants beneath them all.

He stared at it for a moment before extricating something from a pocket quickly in the dark and holding it up against the pale reflection of light filtering through the glass window to get a better look at the object.

His eyes went wide in amazement and he turned to Kamui, holding the object between two fingers as the boy strained from his bed to get a look at it.

A stiff sheet of paper.

Painted completely black.

Embellished with a luminous motif.

A stark white inverted pentagram.

"Do you know what this is, Kamui?" Subaru asked him, making sure to keep it as far away from the two of them as possible while he tried to gauge its potential. It wasn't lethal. Experience told him that much. But it was too volatile to be treated lightly, even by him. Once he decided that it wouldn't be an active threat to Kamui, he relaxed his hold over it.

"Sakurazukamori," the teenager said simply and cast his eyes at the floor. Subaru set down the card on the table and came back to sit down on Kamui's bed, deciding that his visit was going to be a lot longer than he had intended.

"Seishirou-san used ofuda like these," he admitted and pushed Kamui's chin up to get a better look at his face.

"I know. I fought him before I met you," the boy told him and Subaru's mouth twisted a little.

The very person they were discussing was in the room with them.

"When did you make this?"

"Sometime in the morning. School," Kamui explained awkwardly. "Art Class," he added unnecessarily.

Subaru raised an eyebrow and Kamui blushed.

"Is it that bad?" the teenager asked him and Subaru bit his lip as he tried to work out the mechanics of an answer to give him.

"It isn't bad," he assured Kamui, "On the contrary, it's stronger than any ofuda I've ever made myself. I was startled because I wasn't prepared for it."

_It just felt the way you would feel if you happened to fall against a wet electric cable connected to a transformer._

He didn't mention that.

Fascinated, the boy leaned over to get a closer look at his handiwork. He couldn't turn onto his side and gave up in exhaustion, slumping down to look up at the Sumeragi's face instead.

"Why?"

"An ofuda, made by the Kamui of the Dragons of Heaven, the one who represents the majesty of the Gods; who-"

Kamui brutally shoved Subaru's arm away from his face and the older man fell silent.

Somewhere in the distance Kamui heard something, an animal of some sort, a wild dog or a wolf…howling.

Impossible. They were in Tokyo City.

He shivered.

"I'm sorry," Subaru admitted softly, "I had no right to speak to you like that."

"I'm sorry too."

Subaru laughed softly as he took up the ofuda again and examined it but cut himself off as another thought struck him.

"Why did you make this, Kamui?" he asked suddenly and the boy shifted uncomfortably, trying to move his head this way and that to evade his stare. After a while, he realized that there weren't many places for him to flee to when he was strapped down to a hospital bed and gave up in irritation.

"I made it for you. I was going to post it to you somehow," Kamui muttered and shut his eyes, "to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

The teenager huffed out his breath in frustration before going on.

"That I don't care. I don't care if you are the Sakurazukamori, if you've changed sides or if you don't care about me. I don't give a _shit_. It doesn't change _anything_ for me."

Kamui opened his eyes, taking a deep breath and tried to force himself to relax as his chest clenched again.

Subaru looked at his flushed face thoughtfully before turning to study the ofuda again.

"You laminated it," he realized in wonder, using the English word by accident. It was true. The paper was shielded, firm and nearly as hard as cardboard.

"What?"

He quickly corrected himself and repeated it.

Kamui drew his shoulders up defensively and wished he'd stop perspiring despite the air conditioner. Just a few minutes ago, it'd been too cold for him. Now, he was boiling.

"I thought it would be easier for you," he stumbled over his own words as he hurried to explain himself before Subaru decided to wheel him to the Psychiatry ward instead, "Every time you fight, there's always ripped and burning paper everywhere so I thought you could reuse this one over and over again when you're Sakurazukamori and that way, you don't need to keep redrawing the cards and-"

Subaru bent over and kissed Kamui on the mouth.

For an instant, Kamui let it happen but then, he instinctively lurched away as every rational thought in his head fled its sanctuary. Subaru restrained him, his mismatched eyes narrowed as he pressed his lips hard against the teenager's mouth, making him give in and half-lowering himself onto Kamui as he followed him down.

Just like that other time…when they'd first met.

Kamui felt searing heat spreading across his spine, the back of his neck and face as wetness trickled from the side of his lips, trailing down his jaw and he wasn't sure if it was his or Subaru's. He felt the undone oxygen mask push into his cheek and mark his skin as Subaru forced him down even harder and Kamui tried to fight him by coming up again, still unable to grasp the full implication of what was being done to him.

One of Subaru's hands lay on his lapel, tenderly stroking the hard ridge of the collarbone buried underneath his flesh, making Kamui jerk up sharply and breathe harder as his world began to spin. The card grasped in the onmyouji's other hand was pressed against his cheek and the teenager shuddered from its icy chillness and ominous echoes of power he had created as he reached up and seized the neck of Subaru's coat and some of his hair as well, the plastic IV line entangling around both their arms.

Subaru lifted his head slightly so their lips still touched, while observing Kamui fixedly and seeming to consider whether to raise things a level higher. Kamui let out a small, anxious noise through his nose, not daring to stop him as the other's hand ran almost avariciously over his now-bare shoulders and pushed the insubstantial hospital gown further down his body.

Thankfully, Subaru seemed to sense his silent pleading and alarm and responded by reassuringly returning to take resolute possession of the younger boy's slightly open mouth with his own again and immediately halted his other attentions.

Just as Kamui fell into their shared movement, laying back against the pillow of his own volition and beginning to draw the onmyouji closer against him, making the act consensual, Subaru ended it and pulled himself upright with difficulty, struggling for breath.

Kamui found he was trembling, feeling the sweat from Subaru's face coating his own upper lip, while his mouth was sticky with Subaru's saliva.

A lamination over his own skin.

He reached up with his fingers and touched the layer of moisture carefully.

He felt as if he weighed a million leaden pounds and had been branded over every place Subaru touched him; covered in harsh and glowing red marks so that the whole universe could witness the scandalous act he had taken part in, obscuring everything else but his eternal humiliation and exhilaration in the dark. Kamui swallowed to restore himself, feeling breathlessly lightened and hopelessly depressed at the same time, and hating himself for wanting more of it.

"Subaru-"

"I'm so sorry," Subaru cut in, far too quickly, placing the ofuda down on the table as he reached for a tissue from the pocket of his jeans. He removed the dazed teenager's hand from his face and used the paper to wipe Kamui's mouth dry before crumpling it up and tossing it to the floor.

"I don't mind."

"You should. Kamui, I -"

"Well, I _don't_. Deal with it."

Subaru freed his arm from the plastic tubing and redid the mask over Kamui's face with shaking fingers. He watched the younger boy to assess his reaction, uncertainty written over every part of his face.

"Thank you," Kamui said with a muffled voice at last, feeling himself drift closer towards sleep again. Silence was never an awkward thing between them.

"For what?"

"For coming to see me."

Subaru smiled slightly at that.

"You needed me," he pointed out and Kamui tried to stick out his tongue at the twenty-five year old but hit the plastic of his mask instead and gagged in disgust.

Subaru quickly kissed the side of his neck this time and went over to the door while Kamui waited to watch him merge with the darkness. However, the onmyouji stopped once again, just short of the hallway beyond.

Once he walked through that door, they would be enemies in the battle for Earth's destiny.

He made himself forget that and held up the laminated ofuda instead.

"May I keep this, Kamui?" Subaru asked as he smiled for the last time at the teenager.

Kamui smiled in return.

"Yes, please."

**The End**

XXXXXXXXX

**Author's Note: **

**You know how a lot of fanfic authors say, 'The crack made me do this?' I've achieved the weirdest fic of all time minus the aforementioned crack. **

**Anyway, this is my first 'real' SubKam fic. I still can't believe I wrote that but I did and I guess I'm maturing as a writer so please leave me with your comments/ constructive criticism/ review/feedback, etc. Writers need them like other mortals need chocolate and you know I'd do the same for you any time.**

**I got this idea after seeing all the burned/shredded paper in X and wondered how a battle between Subaru and Sei-chan would be if they had re-usable ofuda. **

**I understand this is very subjective and controversial, but I hope you enjoyed the story and its plot.**


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